


Fuck You, Peeta Mellark

by lilcogs



Category: Everlark - Fandom, The Hunger Games
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4366850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilcogs/pseuds/lilcogs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into Katniss's torment through her high school years- and how it leads to confrontation in adulthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck You, Peeta Mellark

**Author's Note:**

> This shouldn't even be called a drabble, it's so long...   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one! Feedback/compliments/kudos are always welcome.  
> Find me on Tumblr at everlark-af.

**_Ninth Grade_ **

****

"Fuck you" isn't a compliment. It means, and I quote (Urban Dictionary): "an expression of contempt". It shouldn't be flattering. It should be taken as _an expression of contempt._  


So when Peeta  _fucking Mellark_ juststands before me with that cocky, lopsided grin on his face, having just made those disgusting remarks, my response is automatic: "Fuck you, Peeta Mellark." 

 

"Wow, Everdeen," he counters, "I always knew you wanted to, but I never thought you'd fess up to your desires." His goons titter beside him. 

 

I roll my eyes and gather the last of my books from my locker. I slam the door when I'm finished, almost smirking when the corners of his cerulean eyes flinch at the noise. 

 

Straightening my all-too-revealing tank top, I silently curse Madge for getting me into this mess. After all, it  _was_  Madge who forgot a sweater this morning and had to borrow my cardigan, leaving me feeling utterly exposed in just this plain,  _brilliantly pink_ , top. And, in essence, it  _was_  Madge who caused Peeta  _fucking Mellark_  to make pervy comments as I innocently collected my things for Honors Chemistry. At least the hem of my white jean shorts isn't incredibly abrupt. 

 

Standing, I turn away from Peeta and his clan of douchebags and stride down the hall. 

 

"Wait," Peeta calls out. I almost turn around. "So how are we gonna do this? My place or yours?" 

 

The laughter of the idiots surrounding him follows me down the hall for the rest of the day. 

 

 

**_Ten years later_ **

****

My phone lights up with another text from my date as I pull up to the restaurant.  

 

Yes,  _"date"._ I don't actually know his name. After several failed passes at a relationship with Gale, Madge finally stopped me from giving it another shot. 

 

"It's not going to work, Kat. He doesn't make you happy," she had said. 

 

And so, as begrudging as I may have been, I let Madge register me for one of those stupid blind date companies that I had promised myself years ago that i would never get sucked into. 

 

So, here I am, Katniss Everdeen, on a Friday night, hopefully about to hit it off with some random guy that I've only ever communicated with through text. 

 

Being reminded with that thought, I fish my phone from my ever-cluttered purse (I always promise myself I'll clean it out another day but never do) and slide my finger across the screen to unlock it. 

 

The most recent bubble reads:  _Table 28. Just ask the hostess for the table with the incredibly hot guy seated there._  


I reply with a quick  _"ha, ha"_ before I slide out of the car and lock the doors. Adjusting this tight black dress for about the millionth time tonight, I give my curled hair one last tousle before I head to the doors of the restaurant. The rhythmic click of my red heels follows me everywhere I go, and I roll my eyes at Madge's insistence that I wear something nice. 

 

The slight breeze as I enter is a stark but welcome contrast to the muggy July air outside. I head over to the hostess stand and wait for the blonde there to lift her head. 

 

"Hi, how many, please?" she asks. 

 

"Oh, I'm meeting someone, actually," I tell her. "I think he said table 28?" 

 

She nods her head and motions for me to follow her, grabbing a menu off the stand as she passes. 

 

Weaving our way through the crowded restaurant, I can't help but feel the first stirrings of nervous excitement. Will he be a creep? A hunk? A douchebag? 

 

It's the latter.  _It's the fucking latter._ As we approach table 28 _,_ Ican't believe my mascara-ringed eyes.  


****

In front of me stands Peetafucking Mellark. I nearly choke on the mint gum I'm chewing. 

 

I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to drive the dull knife that sits on the table into his neck. But most of all- the part of me that is the most concerning - I want to smooth my hands over his broad, muscular chest. I want to run my fingers through his deliberately unruly mess of white-gold hair. His lips, they're so  _full_ , how have I not noticed them before? How has he changed so much since high school? 

 

I shake myself from my stupor and focus on the look he's giving me right now. Yes, there's remembrance, there's contempt, but there's also something there in his wide blue eyes that I can't quite place. Awe? Curiosity? 

 

I slowly maneuver my shaking body over to where he stands next to his chair, still frozen in place. The way he watches me, he seems almost...  _intimidated_. So unlike high school, when I was the one dreading any run-ins with the kid. 

 

" _Are you fucking kidding me?"_ The words come screeching out of my mouth before I can stop them, and he flinches. Like, visibly winces. 

 

"No," I continue, throwing my hands in the air. "No. I can't do this. I spent four fucking years of my life putting up with your shit. I refuse to spend another  _minute_  doing it again." 

****

Before I can turn away and stomp out of the restaurant, ready to scream at Madge for this, he grabs my arm, his eyes still large as saucers. 

 

"Wait, Katniss," he says. "Please?" 

 

I swipe his hand off my arm so quickly that he barely gets the words out. "Get your fucking hands off of me," I hiss. "And don't ever touch me again." 

 

I storm out of the place, blood rushing in my ears and Peeta staring forlornly after me. 

 

 

**_Tenth Grade_ **

****

_Imagine everyone in their underwear, Katniss._

__

It doesn't help. The pounding of my heart fills my ears and my throat as I survey the dozens of pairs of eyes of my classmates before me. I take a deep breath and raise the paper to my face, ready to begin my presentation. 

 

The words on the page are difficult to decipher, what with the constant trembling of my hands, and I do my best to steady them. 

 

"The region of Corsica, like many other parts of France, relies heavily on an agricultural industry. Corsica is especially known for the production-" I emit a little gasp as a large wad of paper makes contact with my forehead. A quick glance upward confirms my suspicions: Peeta  _fucking Mellark_  smiles innocently at me, leaning his chin on his hand and raising his eyebrows curiously, as if I don't know it was him who threw the paper. 

 

"Peeta!" Mademoiselle Trinket calls. "I would appreciate it if you would show our friend Katniss here a little more respect when she presents.  _D'accord?_ "

 

He nods slightly, grinning smugly again when his friends snicker around him. 

 

I shoot him a deadly glare before clearing my throat, now thrown off my game (if I even had a game to begin with). "I-It is especially known for the production of  _vin, fromage, et..._ Um- _"_ I stutter as the paper slips from my sweaty grasp and flutters to the floor. 

 

Bending down to retrieve it, my breath catches in my throat as Peeta whistles lowly. "Damn, Everdeen." 

 

" _Monsieur Mellark!"_ Mademoiselle  Trinket's shrill voice rings out again, and she gives Peeta a warning glare. "Do I have to send you to down to Monsieur Abernathy's office? Or will you behave?" 

 

" _Non_ , Mademoiselle," Peeta answers sweetly. " _Je vais bien._ " 

 

Mademoiselle Trinket nods once before looking to me, eyebrows raised. My face is scorching and red by now, and I rush through the rest of the paragraph, butchering many of the words and surely earning myself a below-average grade. Afterwards, I rush to my desk, head down, and plop unceremoniously into the seat. 

 

Peeta spares me a quick look and sends me a wink. 

 

_His blue eyes twinkle in the most infectious way._

 

I flip him the bird and bury my face in my French notes. 

 

**_Present Day_ **

****

Unhooking my bra angrily and flinging it across the room, I run through my encounter with Peeta  _fucking Mellark_ once more. 

 

How the hell did this happen? Of all the people in the world for me to cross paths with, it had to be Peeta. Of  _course_  it did. This is  _all_  Madge's fault. 

 

The ring of the doorbell interrupts my inner tirade, and I peer quickly through the open window before I throw on a shirt and storm down the stairs of my shared apartment. I make a mental note to give Madge a piece of my mind later. 

 

My pajama bottoms are short,  _too_  short, to be greeting a guest at this hour, and I just hope this is a quick ordeal. I throw open the thick mahogany door, ready to sign for one of Madge's packages or whatever it may be. 

 

My jaw nearly drops to the floor. If this were some movie, I'd drop whatever glass object I was holding and it'd shatter all over the floor. But this isn't a movie. And I'm not holding anything. 

 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I practically shout. "How the fuck did you get my address?"

 

**_Eleventh Grade_ **

****

I wrap my arms tightly around myself, not quite ready - will I ever be? - to walk out of this locker room in such little clothing. The swimsuit is one-piece, yes, and this is for a grade, but I'm not prepared for the onslaught of attention that Peeta will inevitably bring to me. 

 

Mrs. Paylor, the gym teacher, exits her office, her whistle swinging from her finger, and she calls us to attention. 

 

"Alright girls, let's go," she shouts, her words echoing off the locker room walls. 

 

Madge grabs my arm and nudges me forward, and I reluctantly obey her silent command. "Come on, Katniss," she coaxes me. "It won't be that bad." 

 

"Speak for yourself, Madge," I reply. "You don't have anything to worry about." 

 

It's true. All the guys love Madge.  _Everybody_  loves Madge. She doesn't have to live in constant fear of her tormentor. 

 

"Oh, hush," she says. "I have plenty to worry about. Like if this tampon will do its damn job." She giggles at herself, signaling the end of the discussion. 

 

It's just as bad as I feared it would be. As soon as I leave the safety of the locker room, I'm bombarded with catcalls, led by Peeta and his idiotic crew. 

 

"Damn, Everdeen," Peeta calls, and my face burns in shame. Madge grabs me protectively and shoots Peeta a nasty look. 

 

"Screw them, Kat," she says to me. "Honestly, just fuck 'em." 

 

"Hey, Madge," Finnick Odair and Gale Hawthorne call shyly from across the gym, almost at the same time. They glare at each other for having the same thought. 

 

Madge smiles and waves flirtatiously at them. "Hi, Finnick. Hi, Gale." 

 

They blush at her attentions and turn away, whispering and giggling- seriously _, giggling-_ like schoolgirls. It honestly pisses me off that Madge can have such an effect on some of the hottest guys in our grade- hell, in our whole damn  _school_. 

 

Yes, only  _some_  of the hottest guys. Because to me,  _the_  hottest guy is the one currently making my life miserable. Which is undeniably fucked up in every way, yes. I do have to say, though, he looks damn good in those swim trunks. Unfortunately, guys in our school aren't required to wear speedos. 

 

Several more girls from our grade greet Madge as they pass. A few remarks of "Oh, hey, Katniss" are thrown in too- an afterthought, a last-minute gesture.  _What am I, chopped liver?_  


I sigh and we join the rest of our class in front of Mrs. Paylor and Mr. Thread. We've just received our plans for today when my balance is suddenly thrown off. I whip my head to the side to see Peeta smirking just a second before I topple into the water. 

 

I gasp as I fall, which of course causes me to inhale a lungful of the chlorine-infused poolwater. I come up sputtering and am met with the chorus of laughter from the rest of my classmates. 

 

Mrs. Paylor squats at the edge of the pool, trying to help me out of the pool, but I ignore her and push myself out. I swipe wet strands of hair out of my eyes before stomping up to Peeta  _fucking Mellark_ and looking him dead in the eyes.

 

"Fuck you, Peeta Mellark," I spit. 

 

"Okay," he replies arrogantly. "When?" 

 

A knee to the balls shuts him right up, and I storm into the locker room to shower off before anyone can protest. 

 

**_Present Day_ **

 

Peeta scratches the back of his neck. "I, uh... I followed you home." He braces himself for my reaction. 

 

"You  _what?_ " My eyes narrow. "I could call the cops on you, Peeta!" He seems to know this already, judging by the pleading look on his face. I lower my voice, trying to control myself. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" 

 

"I want a second chance, Katniss," he says. "I know I was a dick to you in high school-" 

 

"A  _huge_  dick," I correct him. 

 

"I know I was a  _huge_  dick to you in high school, but we're 25 now, and I thought maybe I could make it up to you." He twiddles his thumbs nervously. 

 

I sigh and lean against the doorframe. "How long have you been here, Peeta?" 

 

He tugs at his collar. "Uh, about fifteen minutes, maybe?" 

 

He wipes his hands on his slacks. It's only then that I remember how underdressed I am in comparison to him.  _Fuck_. I'm not even wearing a  _bra!_  


 

My heart plummets to my stomach when I remember my open window upstairs. 

 

" _Shit_ , Peeta, did you- could you see me  _changing_  from out there?" My eyes feel like they're bulging from my skull. 

 

He shifts his stance and lowers his gaze to his feet. And nods. "Uh, yeah, I could." His voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat. 

 

  
_"Oh my god,"_ I breathe, and my face immediately flames in response to this latest discovery _. "_ This is too much. I can't do this right now. I- of _course_ you did, Peeta. Of course."  


I move to swing the door shut, but he stops me. "Katniss, I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have followed you, and I shouldn't have stayed. And I  _definitely_  shouldn't have watched you change. I'll leave right now if you really want me to. But what I want, desperately, is for you to give me another shot. If that's all it is - a shot- then fine. You can never talk to me again. But at least grant me that." 

 

I sigh once more and hang my head. "Fine," I whisper. "But let me go change out of this. Give me a minute." 

 

Once upstairs, I make a big show of closing my blinds. 

 

**_Twelfth Grade_ **

****

The music is too loud. The people are too rowdy. The dancing is too sexual. 

 

I  _told_  Madge I didn't want to come to this party. But she had insisted, and now here I am: adorned with a shirt that is too low-cut, a skirt that is too skintight, heels that are too high (the clothes come from Madge's closet, thank you very much), and an untouched drink in my hand. 

 

"Come on, Kat!" Madge shouts over the music. "Let's dance!" She grabs my hands and pulls me into the next room, moving in some manner that must classify as dancing in her state of drunkenness. 

 

I sort of sway to the beat, just to pacify her, and she must accept it because she leaves me alone after that. But I don't want to be here anymore, not at this party, and especially not surrounded by intoxicated seniors and blasting music. And soon, Madge disappears from my side, effectively leaving me feeling extremely out of place in such an environment. Great. 

 

I find Annie Cresta amid the crowd, though, her thick brown hair let down in loose waves, and I settle in beside her. 

 

"Hey," I shout to her. 

 

"Katniss!" she squeals, and pulls me in for a hug. She's always been big on girly things, like squealing and hugging. "I didn't expect to ever see you at a party - especially not this one!" 

 

The assumption stings a little, but because I know Annie, it's obvious that she didn't mean anything by it. Plus, she's right. Cato's is one of the biggest parties of the year; it feels like half the entire school is here. 

 

"Madge dragged me here," I explain. 

 

She nods once, deeply. "Ah," is all she says. No further explanation is needed. "Hey, see that guy over there?" She pulls me in close and points at someone across the room. 

 

"Oh, that's Finnick. Finnick Odair," I tell her. Then I smile knowingly. "You should go talk to him."

 

"I don't know..." Annie bites her full bottom lip in indecision. 

 

"Oh, come on, Annie," I press, giving her a nudge towards Finnick. "Plus he's been checking you out, like,  _all_  night." 

 

"Really?" Annie's green eyes brighten further, if that's even possible for her. She doesn't wait for an answer. She simply touches my shoulder and makes her way over to Finnick. Last-minute, though, she turns back to me. "Wait, are you going to be okay here? Like, do you want me to stay or something?" 

 

I shake my head. "I have to go to the bathroom anyway," I say. I don't, really; I haven't taken even a sip of my beer, but she doesn't need to know that. She nods and saunters off, so I slip into the hall and lean my head against the wall, relishing the relative silence. 

 

My relief is short-lived, however; i hear the obvious sounds of a makeout session around the corner. I roll my eyes, prepare to walk past the couple. As I approach, though, those two blonde heads look awfully familiar. 

 

It takes me about thirty seconds to realize what I'm witnessing: Madge. Peeta. Kissing. Making out. Her fingers tugging at his hair. His hands under her shirt. I'm literally watching them get tongue-tied for half a minute before I react. Like some awkward porno. 

 

"What the  _fuck_?" I finally manage. 

 

It's barely enough to get their attention, but they pull away from each other, although clearly hesitantly. 

 

It doesn't seem to register at first for either of them that it's  _me_ , it's Katniss standing in front of them. Then Madge gasps. 

 

"Katniss," she groans. "Oh, no. Oh,  _shit_." She buries her face in her hands. 

 

"Madge... what the fuck?" It seems I can't master any other words at the moment. 

 

"Katniss, I-" Madge begins. At least she seems remorseful. 

 

Peeta interrupts with a huge bout of laughter. "Oh,  _shit_ ," he guffaws. "This is so damn awkward. Because you-" he points to me- "hate me. And she-" his finger moves to Madge- "is your best friend. And then we-" he gestures between Madge and himself- "were just making out." He's still cackling. 

 

"Yes, we get it, Peeta," I snap. " I understand what's happening. I just don't know  _why_." I turn to Madge, hurt. The questioning look on my face is enough for her to receive the message. 

 

"I don't  _know_ , Katniss," she wails, standing from the couch. "I don't know why I did it. It was so stupid of me. I know you hate that boy. I shouldn't have kissed him." She approaches me carefully, begging for my forgiveness. I can still hear Peeta's occasional giggle from behind her. 

 

I storm off. Madge follows, an obedient, petulant puppy. 

 

"Katniss,  _please_ ," she persists. "Talk to me." 

 

I whirl around. "What is there to talk about, Madge? What do you even have to say to defend yourself?" 

 

She furrows her brow and shakes her head. "Nothing," she replies. "Absolutely nothing. It's unforgivable, what I just did back there. I'm  _sorry_. I'm drunk, I can't think straight." 

 

"You  _know_  how much I hate him, Madge! You  _know_  that he's the one that torments me, endlessly, day after day. Yet you decided to be his- his  _what?_  His little fuck buddy?" I'm pacing before her now. 

 

She eyes me nervously. "No, Katniss, it's not like that. I don't even  _like_  the kid, I would never-" 

 

I hold up my palm to her face to silence her. "Enough, Madge. Just... enough." She sputters once more before I cut her off. " _Please_ , just go for now." I turn away, so I can't see her anymore, but I hear her resigned tread grow quieter. 

 

It's not her I'm frustrated over, if I'm being perfectly honest. It's Peeta. 

 

Before, even with all the snide, rude, pervy remarks, the catcalls and the whistles that followed me mercilessly, I could handle it. Because there was still a chance that he could like me. I mean,  _like-like_ me _._ But now there is none. By kissing Madge like that, Peeta's message to me finally hit home: _I do not like you. I'm not attracted to you; I never will be. I'm going to kiss girls that aren't you and make people that aren't you feel special._ Basically: _You can go fuck yourself, for all I care._  


Has Peeta only ever noticed me because I'm friends with Madge? The thoughts sickens me. Although I wouldn't be surprised if it's true; it wouldn't be the first time people have pretended to like me only to have access to Madge. 

But I try to pretend it's Madge's betrayal that upsets me, and I don't talk to her for the rest of the night. 

 

At the end of the party, I'm standing against the wall, waiting for Annie to finish flirting and exchanging numbers with Finnick. They really must have hit it off.  _Good for them_ , I sulk. 

 

From beneath my closed eyelids, I hear some drunk fool come stumbling down the hall, and I sigh, mentally preparing myself for the ordeal that is surely about to arise. 

 

I almost give an audible groan, but instead settle for a blatant roll of my eyes. Because who but Peeta  _fucking Mellark_ appears? I push off the wall to make my exit, but Peeta's hand on my shoulder stops me. 

 

"Hey, Katniss." He smiles at me foolishly. "Whatcha doin' here?" 

 

"Getting ready to leave," I reply coolly. 

 

He seems upset by this. "Not so soon, Katniss, please." This is just about the most civilized conversation we've ever had, but I credit that to alcohol. 

 

"And why not?" I inquire. He's so drunk, he's actually almost bearable. 

 

"Because..." he trails off. It's only a second later that I realize his hand has steadily crept to my ass. 

 

I gasp and try to pull away, but he pulls me flush against his body. "Because I want to do this," he finishes. I don't even have time to register what's happening before his lips are on mine. 

 

At first I let him kiss me. I  _let_  him! But then there's the telltale taste of alcohol on his lips and I'm brought back to reality.  _He's drunk, Katniss. He hates you. He's a_  dick.  _He just made out with your best friend!_  


 

I try to pull away but his grip around me tightens and his mouth pushes harder against mine. He swallows my noises of protest, and eventually I'm thrashing against him, struggling to break free, to  _breathe_. 

 

At last he pulls away, panting, and I'm  practically sobbing. He looks at me curiously, as if he didn't just attack me, and I force myself to steady my breaths. 

 

Raising my hand, I slap him hard across the cheek. "That's for grabbing my ass," I say. Then- I never thought I'd say this but- thank god for these heels, because I bring one down hard on his foot, eliciting a howl of pain from him.  _Good_. "And that's for kissing me." 

 

Then I grasp his face hard in my hand. "If you  _ever_  touch me like that again without my permission, I will make your life miserable." I make to leave, but as an afterthought, I turn back to him. "And Peeta? Don't fuck with me. Or Madge." 

 

I leave him standing there alone, his foot still clutched in both of his hands. 

 

_Fuck you, Peeta Mellark._

_**Present Day** _

__

I clomp down the stairs in my slippered feet and swing open the door. 

 

"Hey, Peeta," I call into the darkness, "you can come inside now." 

 

He materializes out of nowhere, looking cute and shy with his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. 

 

"Hey," he says, and I smile- actually  _smile-_ at Peeta Mellark. 

 

"Hey yourself." 

 

He steps in the door, and I become painfully aware of the untidy state of my apartment. 

 

"Uh, sorry for the mess-" I begin. 

 

"Katniss, I really couldn't give any less of a shit. I'm the one that intruded, remember?" He seems remorseful, so I wordlessly forgive him. 

 

"Okay," I say, and we're left in a deafening silence. I clear my throat. "Uh, would you like something to drink? I have some pinot grigio in the garage. Or you could have some shitty beer." 

 

He laughs, a melodious sound that causes my heart to flutter. "I'm fine. Really. But thanks." 

 

"Sure," I reply. "Anyway... You wanna come sit down for a while?" 

 

He nods. "Sure. Yeah. I'd like that." 

 

I lower myself into the couch and, since he apparently knows boundaries now, he seats himself on the chair across from me. 

 

"Well," I begin, "I'm going to start with the obvious, since I feel like I have a right to know." 

 

He nods and I continue. "I'm just going to say it outright: why were you such a douchebag to me?"

 

Peeta sighs and scrubs a hand through his golden curls. _"Why?_  Does there really need to be an explanation?" 

 

He huffs and purses his lips at my deadly expression. "Fine." 

 

He seems to have a hard time collecting his thoughts, but eventually he speaks. "I.. may have had... a huge crush on you." 

 

He whispers these last words. That's why I'm not sure if I've heard him correctly. "You...  _what?"_  


 

He raises his head and looks me in the eye. "I had a crush on you, okay? That's why I was so mean. I didn't want anyone to make fun of me for liking you. I didn't want  _you_  to make fun of me." 

 

I suck in a deep breath. "Well, then... I guess that makes two of us, huh?" 

 

It takes him a moment to understand; when he does, his entire beautiful face lights up and a huge grin splits his face. 

 

Then he does something completely unexpected: he takes my face in both of his hands and lowers his mouth to mine. But he stops, right before our lips meet, and gives me a look of inquiry. I nod, giving him silent permission, and he kisses me full on the mouth. His taste is so utterly  _him;_ there's no alcohol this time. 

 

I pull away. When I see his look of concern, I smile and touch the tip of his nose with my pointer finger. 

 

"Fuck you, Peeta Mellark," I whisper. 

 

He grins and brings his lips back to mine. 


End file.
